Post by JEM on Jun 8, 2020 12:43:07 GMT
JOHN GODDARD'S THOUGHT FOR THE DAY 2020 April 9th
Today is Maundy Thursday, the day where Christians especially remember Jesus and the Last Supper. For more years than I care to remember I have usually hosted a meal at church on the evening of Maundy Thursday.
Over the years the catering has probably changed a little, but the format has remained fairly constant. An open invitation has been offered at church, and usually a couple of dozen people will join me for a simple supper around a single table at church. And during the meal, usually towards the end, I will read from one of the Gospel accounts, and break bread - the bread we have been eating with our meal - and share it. And a jug of grape juice (it's a Baptist thing...) will be passed around the table and folk refill the glasses they have been using during the meal. We eat and drink in remembrance of Jesus' life and death, his words and actions, and as we do so we share in the body and blood of Christ as the body of Christ. This is not how we usually celebrate Holy Communion, but it is how we celebrate it on Maundy Thursday, and I think the memory of it lives on for some of us as we share Communion in other ways at other times during the Christian year.
This year is different. Nothing is the same. The old Facebook joke about Jesus booking a table for 26, because they were all going to sit on one side of the table (take a bow Mr da Vinci) has been replaced by the image of Jesus at the table alone, with his disciples 'Zooming' in above! Everything is different, and I am sat writing rather than shopping, preparing, cooking and serving... Everything has changed.
And yet, has it? We are needing to find new ways of doing things, and we are justifiably mourning the necessary interruption of our 'normal' way of being. But has everything changed? The symbols may currently be hard to recreate, and the sacramental mystery of the act of sharing together is missing, but the thing signified remains. In the act of breaking bread and drinking wine we are remembering, signifying, entering into again the reality of something real that has occurred and is not cancelled! Jesus died, and rose again, for us. We may, temporarily need new ways of remembering, proclaiming and celebrating, but the one we celebrate and proclaim is still with us!
So this evening, or some time over the weekend, as you prepare food or as you eat, take a moment to remember, to give thanks, and to know that the Crucified Saviour is still our Risen Lord. Amen?
JOHN GODDARD'S THOUGHT FOR THE DAY 2020 April 10th
Good Friday. Good? Really?
As a teenager Good Friday would often involve a service on a local hill, Eccles Pike. I'm not sure who used to organise it as I was the sort of enthusiast who went to events arranged by several churches, but Good Friday afternoon was special. The service focused around 3pm - traditionally the hour of Jesus' death - with songs, prayers, and time to be quiet.
It would be glorious up there today, with bright sunshine and a gentle breeze (if the BBC is to be believed...) but it wasn't always like that. The last time I remember joining in with this service was whilst working as a Chaplain at the University of Nottingham, focused on the needs of the many international students. I had hired a minibus for the weekend, and friends from the Methodist Church in Chapel-en-le-Frith were hosting around a dozen students from a variety of nations. On the Friday afternoon some of us joined with the others on Eccles Pike, and it was very cold, and very wet. Derbyshire did not disappoint. I was feeling very apologetic towards our guests, and I remember speaking to one young man from Singapore who looked frozen! But I also remember his response. He told me that for him Good Friday had always been comfortable and air-conditioned. Suddenly it was harsh and brutal, and he realised that the events were taking on new meaning for him. Good Friday was not a cosy beginning to a Bank Holiday weekend, but the remembrance of violence and injustice which sought to rid the world of a man of justice and love. And as he saw the events through new eyes, so did I.
That must be getting on for 30 years ago now, but I still call that afternoon and those words to mind most Good Fridays. Today has been different to most, with the lockdown meaning that our planned Walk of Witness has not taken place. And yet the reality is remembered, and the truth of Good Friday remains. Death sought to defeat love, but Love Wins!
Today is Maundy Thursday, the day where Christians especially remember Jesus and the Last Supper. For more years than I care to remember I have usually hosted a meal at church on the evening of Maundy Thursday.
Over the years the catering has probably changed a little, but the format has remained fairly constant. An open invitation has been offered at church, and usually a couple of dozen people will join me for a simple supper around a single table at church. And during the meal, usually towards the end, I will read from one of the Gospel accounts, and break bread - the bread we have been eating with our meal - and share it. And a jug of grape juice (it's a Baptist thing...) will be passed around the table and folk refill the glasses they have been using during the meal. We eat and drink in remembrance of Jesus' life and death, his words and actions, and as we do so we share in the body and blood of Christ as the body of Christ. This is not how we usually celebrate Holy Communion, but it is how we celebrate it on Maundy Thursday, and I think the memory of it lives on for some of us as we share Communion in other ways at other times during the Christian year.
This year is different. Nothing is the same. The old Facebook joke about Jesus booking a table for 26, because they were all going to sit on one side of the table (take a bow Mr da Vinci) has been replaced by the image of Jesus at the table alone, with his disciples 'Zooming' in above! Everything is different, and I am sat writing rather than shopping, preparing, cooking and serving... Everything has changed.
And yet, has it? We are needing to find new ways of doing things, and we are justifiably mourning the necessary interruption of our 'normal' way of being. But has everything changed? The symbols may currently be hard to recreate, and the sacramental mystery of the act of sharing together is missing, but the thing signified remains. In the act of breaking bread and drinking wine we are remembering, signifying, entering into again the reality of something real that has occurred and is not cancelled! Jesus died, and rose again, for us. We may, temporarily need new ways of remembering, proclaiming and celebrating, but the one we celebrate and proclaim is still with us!
So this evening, or some time over the weekend, as you prepare food or as you eat, take a moment to remember, to give thanks, and to know that the Crucified Saviour is still our Risen Lord. Amen?
JOHN GODDARD'S THOUGHT FOR THE DAY 2020 April 10th
Good Friday. Good? Really?
As a teenager Good Friday would often involve a service on a local hill, Eccles Pike. I'm not sure who used to organise it as I was the sort of enthusiast who went to events arranged by several churches, but Good Friday afternoon was special. The service focused around 3pm - traditionally the hour of Jesus' death - with songs, prayers, and time to be quiet.
It would be glorious up there today, with bright sunshine and a gentle breeze (if the BBC is to be believed...) but it wasn't always like that. The last time I remember joining in with this service was whilst working as a Chaplain at the University of Nottingham, focused on the needs of the many international students. I had hired a minibus for the weekend, and friends from the Methodist Church in Chapel-en-le-Frith were hosting around a dozen students from a variety of nations. On the Friday afternoon some of us joined with the others on Eccles Pike, and it was very cold, and very wet. Derbyshire did not disappoint. I was feeling very apologetic towards our guests, and I remember speaking to one young man from Singapore who looked frozen! But I also remember his response. He told me that for him Good Friday had always been comfortable and air-conditioned. Suddenly it was harsh and brutal, and he realised that the events were taking on new meaning for him. Good Friday was not a cosy beginning to a Bank Holiday weekend, but the remembrance of violence and injustice which sought to rid the world of a man of justice and love. And as he saw the events through new eyes, so did I.
That must be getting on for 30 years ago now, but I still call that afternoon and those words to mind most Good Fridays. Today has been different to most, with the lockdown meaning that our planned Walk of Witness has not taken place. And yet the reality is remembered, and the truth of Good Friday remains. Death sought to defeat love, but Love Wins!